


sunflower

by bloominsummer



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung | Jr., Minor Jeon Jungkook/Kim Yugyeom, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: “Who was that?” Mark chuckles nervously.He prays that Jackson gives him an indication that the guy is just a friend, because he has dimples as deep as the Mariana Trench, a pair of hooded eyes and beautiful purple hair and Mark doesn’t stand a goddamn chance if that’s the upgrade Jackson got after him.Jackson doesn’t.He also prays Jackson doesn’t catch on to his awkwardness when he asked him the question.Jackson doesn’t.





	sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to put a disclaimer here but i realised this is my first work based on non-fictional characters (do copyright issues still apply?)
> 
> anyway, it took me some time to finish this fic and even longer to make up my mind to post it. but it's valentine's day and i feel the need to share the love with others, so here it is. 
> 
> if my friend av is reading this, thanks for being my biggest supporter!

Mark wonders what he’s doing here. The faint hum of music playing from the turntable is barely registering with his brain. It’s funny, he ponders, that not too long ago they were partying every Friday night to hip hop and EDM and now Jaebum, _the b-boy king_ , plays old soul music records he got from the secondhand shop down the block. Getting domesticated does weird things to a person’s personality, that’s for sure. 

He stares absentmindedly at Jaebum, who’s wearing a huge decorative hat Youngjae brought for him, a glass of wine in his hand. He looks content, which Mark supposes is a good thing. Jaebum used to hate parties, even the ones that are thrown especially to celebrate him. Mark would have guessed he’d spend this one the way he spent most of the others: tucked in a corner with Jinyoung on his lap, a possessive arm gripping his boyfriend’s waist, scowling at anyone who tries to strike up a conversation with either one of them. But no, today he’s socialising and Mark’s the one being a loner, sitting at the kitchen table by himself, away from the rest of the group. 

He was probably projecting his own party-pooper personality to Jaebum.

Mark is scrolling through Instagram when a familiar voice calls out to him, somewhere to his left. 

“Hey, handsome.”

He turns toward the source almost immediately, an old habit that he’s sure will never die. “J— Jackson-ah,” he says, startled. “I didn’t know––”

His hair is brown again, Mark notices. He looks good. Mark’s glad for him. He always looks good, but blond hair never quite agrees with him the way brown hair does. 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Jackson takes a step back, unsure. “Should I have told you?”

Great. Now he feels like an asshole. Jackson shouldn’t feel like he doesn’t belong in a party filled with his loved ones just because Mark can’t handle being in the same room with him. They’re not together anymore, but it doesn’t mean they can’t be friends. Jackson would want to be friends, of course. That’s just the kind of person he is. The kind of person Mark couldn’t help but fell in love with as he got to know him.

“No! I mean. No, it’s okay,” Mark corrects himself hastily. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all. I didn’t know you were back.”

Jackson visibly relaxes and Mark can breathe a little easier. 

“I flew in last week. How are you?”

“Good. Thank you. Yourself?” 

Mark hates how monotone he sounds. He’s already embracing the fact that he won’t be sleeping much tonight. Instead, he’ll stay awake until dawn analysing this interaction over and over again until his head hurts and his heart aches.

“I’m alright.”

Before Mark can reply, a man appears on Jackson’s side— an aesthetically pleasing man at that. He can’t see through Jackson’s body, but he just _knows_ that the man has placed his hand on the small of Jackson’s back, effortlessly intimate. He ignores the little sting in his heart that comes from the knowledge that it used to be a gesture reserved for him. 

“Jacks, I’m going to go find Yugyeom, okay?”

Jackson nods quickly at the man—whose hand travels from Jackson’s back to his shoulder before as he leaves—and returns his attention to Mark.

“Who was that?” Mark chuckles nervously.

He prays that Jackson gives him an indication that the guy is just a friend because he has dimples as deep as the Mariana Trench, a pair of hooded eyes _and_ beautiful purple hair and Mark doesn’t stand a goddamn chance if that’s the upgrade Jackson got after him.

Jackson doesn’t.

He also prays Jackson doesn’t catch on to his awkwardness when he asked him the question.

Jackson doesn’t. 

This time, even though it’s what Mark wanted in the first place, he can’t help but feel disappointed because it means Jackson no longer knows him as well as he used to.

“Ah, that’s Namjoon,” Jackson explains lightly, as if he didn’t just stab Mark with a thousand tiny daggers. “I can introduce you later, if you want. I think he’s a little distracted right now.” His eyes follow Namjoon’s figure fondly.

Mark _doesn’t_ want. Mark can safely say that he 100% does _not_ want to be introduced to Jackson’s new boyfriend. He wonders if Jackson used to look at him the same way he’s looking at this _Namjoon_ guy now. 

“Yes, later,” he agrees instead, for the sake of being polite. He can always sneak out through the fire escape before that ever happen. Jaebum would probably give him a long ass talk for skipping his party, but Mark will survive. He’s older, anyway, and even Jaebum knows what respect means. Most of the time.

“I should probably spend some time with the birthday boy. Talk to you later?”

Mark gives him a smile, a pathetic one if he has to describe it, but the brunet doesn’t seem to mind his failed attempt at interacting. He offers Mark his characteristic grin and makes his way over to Jaebum. 

* * *

“Hyung, why do you look like that?” Jinyoung makes his presence known by standing directly in front of him and effectively blocking Mark’s view of the room. 

Mark gazes up at him. “Like what?” 

Jinyoung takes a gulp of his beer. Jaebum’s favourite brand, at that. God, this act of switching personalities he and Jaebum have going on is starting to get on Mark’s nerves. The younger man pulls out a chair next to Mark and sits down.

“Like someone kicked your dog. It’s a party, come on, live a little.” He pats Mark on the leg.

“Jinyoung, I––”

“Is this about him?” Jinyoung cuts him off, cocking his head to where Jackson is standing next to Jaebum, laughing along with Youngjae at something he said. 

Mark is a bad liar to begin with, but on his good days he can fool Youngjae easily into thinking he’s alright when he’s actually on the verge of breaking down. His dongsaeng had made it a mission to come and drag him out of his apartment every weekend after Mark started living alone again, sometimes going as far as turning down dates just to keep Mark company. Mark declined his invitations as politely as he could at the beginning, but no one can resist Youngjae’s pouty expression for long.

Before he knew it, he was eating pork belly strips in the restaurant down the street or accompanying Youngjae to karaoke. Mark found out that he didn’t mind it. When Youngjae asked him, _Okay?_ at the end of every friendly outing, Mark would tell him, _Okay._ and every week it gets closer to being the truth.

He thinks it has more to do with the fact that Youngjae is just so trusting and pure than his ability to pretend, but that counts for something.

Jinyoung is an entirely different case. He can call Mark out on his bullshit before the Mark even finishes his sentence, so there is really no point of lying to him. Mark trusts that Jinyoung won’t judge him too harshly if he tells him the truth.

“Yeah.”

Jinyoung sighs as if he expected it. “He’s allowed to move on,” he reminds Mark, none too gently, “It’s been six months and as I recall, you were the one who broke up with him. Not that anyone in this room knows why but the two of you.”

“Ah, leave me alone, Jinyoungie.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, this is _my_ place.” 

Yes, it also came as a surprise to him that after months of mutual pining, Jaebum and Jinyoung dropped their ‘we’re just fuckbuddies and neither of us is catching any feelings’ act and officially got together. It’s been a little over two years now. They haven’t killed the other person and their fights are never long-lived, so it must be working out well for the two of them. And no, Mark isn’t bitter that he, on the other hand, never quite passed this stage in his previous relationship. His previous relationship, with Jackson, who as if on cue looks his way at the right moment, meeting Mark’s eyes. 

“You’re right,” Mark turns to look at Jinyoung, in a not-so-natural attempt to break the eye-contact with Jackson. “Sorry, Jinyoungie.”

“Ugh, it’s worse when you apologise.” Jinyoung crinkles his nose, a gesture that translates to genuine affection when it comes from him, and proceeds to shove the beer bottle into Mark’s hand. “Here, have a drink. Some liquor courage might help.”

 

* * *

_“Let’s break up.”_

_Jackson blanched. He already looked pale to begin with, probably from the lack of sleep, but now all the blood was just drained from his face. “Is— is that what you want, Mark?”_

_Mark watched him carefully before nodding, but in his mind he was screaming_ Stop me, Jackson, I have no idea what I’m saying.

_Jackson fixed his eyes to the hardwood floor of their apartment._

_“Yeah. Okay. Okay, then,” he replied after a minute, not looking at Mark._

* * *

 

“Shouldn’t you be fussing over Jaebum over there?”

“He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. Besides, I’ve fussed over him enough this morning. Three times, to be exact,” he lifts his middle, ring, and pinky fingers to emphasise his point.

Mark makes a disgusted face. Despite how he looked, Jinyoung was never proper to begin with; he was just as dirty-minded and loose-lipped as he is today, albeit he used to be better at hiding it. He attracted men and women all the same with his innocent act that he knew how to play so well. Even Jaebum, who has one of the strongest resolves Mark knows, found himself trapped in Jinyoung’s web. 

Still, that was way too much information before barely enough alcohol. 

There’s a sound of the apartment door opening and then closing, prompting Jinyoung to look up at the commotion.

“Oh, Bambam’s here. Finally. He’s always late,” he pretends to grumble, although Mark knows he loves his adoptive son more than anything. “Let’s go say hi.”

He stands up and extends a hand toward Mark, who simply shrinks back into his seat. “Uh, I think I’m good here.”

Jinyoung raises both eyebrows, his lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. “Bambam didn’t do anything to you.”

Mark knows that, so he tells Jinyoung as much.

“Then why don’t you want to talk to him?”

For the record, Mark tried. The first few weeks he had called and called Bambam continuously, even more times than he called Jackson, which shouldn’t even be a comparison because he didn’t call Jackson at all. Also for the record, his hand kept trembling whenever he tried, so there’s that. 

Bambam didn’t pick up his calls nor did he reply to Mark’s numerous amount of text messages. It became clear to Mark after some time that when two people in the same friend group break up, it’s inevitable that their mutual friends would choose one person over the other. He broke it down like this: Jackson, Bambam and Yugyeom met in a dance crew back when Bambam still had pink frosty tips in his hair, so he put them down under Jackson’s name.Jaebum was Jaebum, Jackson always said he’s been stuck with him for as long as he could remember. He wrote Jaebum’s name under Bambam’s. 

Mark’s mother was high school best friends with Jinyoung’s, who grew up right next door to Youngjae. Mark used to be in charge to babysit them both, so he knew for sure that he got to keep Jinyoung and Youngjae was too nice to treat him differently for whatever reason, but he realised that those two were the only people on his list. 

It had hurt just as much realising that as it did realising Jackson was drifting away from him.

“He, well, he hasn’t talked to me in a while. I think he’s mad at me or something.”

“How long is ‘awhile’?” Jinyoung narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“Like, six months.”

The younger man in front of him gasps. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Wait, Jinyoung, don’t.” Mark grabs his arm, not too harshly, but enough to make Jinyoung stop. 

“We met every other week for coffee and he always asked about how you were doing. I told him to ask you directly and he laughed it off by saying he didn’t want to bother you. That little bastard.”

That was a surprise to Mark. Jaebum’s party is the first major gathering of their group he’s been to since Jackson packed his bags and moved 2,000 kilometres away from him. Jinyoung stopped pestering him to come to regular bowling nights after Mark broke down and told him through tears that it was just too much being with all the people he loves _but one_. He never had to interact with Bambam in front of the others— Jinyoung must have assumed that he’s been meeting with him alone or in smaller groups, the way he does with Youngjae and Yugyeom. 

A sense of misplaced happiness bubbles through Mark’s heart right to his lips. He finds it difficult to fight his facial muscles from forming a smile. In his own way, Bambam still cares about him. It feels reassuring.

Another thing he feels in that moment is pride. Bambam knows how to keep a secret, then, if he managed to trick Jinyoung into thinking there was nothing wrong between him and Mark for longer than six seconds. Jinyoung sees through _everyone_. Hell, Jinyoung sees through ten layers of Jaebum’s commitment issues and philophobia. Bambam should be getting an award for his performance. 

“It’s okay,” he offers Jinyoung back some of the reassurance he gives him, “The break up was hard on him, too.”

“What are you talking about? There were two people in that relationship and neither of them was him.”

“A divorce is always difficult for the children, right? I lost custody, that’s all there is to it.”

Jinyoung licks his lips, silently conceding to Mark’s point. 

“Okay, but we both know that he can’t ignore you forever, so let’s give it a try.”

He doesn’t pose it as a question, but Mark understands perfectly that Jinyoung is giving him a choice. He has never pushed Mark to do something he’s not entirely comfortable with, and he’s certainly not going to start now. Mark nods slowly at him and Jinyoung seems to receive his answer loud and clear.

 

* * *

_Jackson didn’t lift his eyes to look at Mark anymore. He also didn’t say another word after agreeing to break up with him. He paddled around their apartment silently and was halfway out the door when Mark broke out of his reverie._

_“Where are you going?” he asked, even though was he really meant was to ask Jackson not to leave._

_His boy— ex-boyfriend and former love of his life, Mark corrected himself, turned his head slightly to the left, his back still towards Mark. “I’ll crash at Jaebum’s. I don’t think I should spend the night here,” he whispered, and then, even quieter than Mark thought was possible, “I don’t think I want to.”_

_“Jackson,” Mark tried desperately._

_Jackson waited for him. Mark closed his eyes and calmed himself down. No matter how much he wanted to keep Jackson, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wasn’t going to._

_Jackson waited for him, but Mark decided not to say anything else for both their sakes._

_“It’s alright, Markie,” Mark saw him grimace as he let the nickname slip, “Mark. It’s alright. I’ll swing by sometime later to get my stuff, yeah?”_

_Then he was gone, leaving Mark alone in the dark once again._

_If Mark had known that’s the last time he’d hear Jackson call his name for a long time, he would have asked him to say it over and over again. He would have memorised it down to the intonation and store it in the folder of things that make his knees go weak, alongside with the rest of echoes Jackson left behind when he disappeared._

* * *

 

“Hey, hyung.” Bambam grins widely when he spots Jinyoung walking towards him. 

The grin disappears just as fast as it appeared when Jinyoung steps aside and Mark enters his line of sight. Bambam’s eyes widen and he scans the room quickly; Mark can pinpoint the exact moment they land on Jackson. His shoulder slumps a little, but he manages to regain his composure before anyone else catches on.

“Bammie,” Mark breathes out.

Bambam stumbles backward as if Mark’s voice electrocuted him, shaking his head vigorously. “Nope,” he pops out the ‘p’, “I’m out.”

“Yah! Where are you going?” Jaebum’s voice booms from across the room. 

“Out. Happy birthday, Jaebum-hyung, but I’m leaving.” Bambam looks at Jackson expectantly, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“What?” Jackson asks him.

“Are you coming?”

Jackson laughs mirthfully at Bambam’s inquiry, not comprehending the weight of the situation just yet. He seems to take it as one of the younger’s many antics. “You want me to walk you out? You just got here and now you’re leaving and you want me to walk you out? Come on, stay.” 

Bambam doesn’t spare Mark a glance, but that doesn’t mean the words coming out of his mouth next aren’t just as venomous as a snake bite.

“Why does it look to me like you want to stay in this room, even with _him_ in it?”

He plays the pronoun game, not that it throws anyone off. Namjoon probably knows who he’s talking about. Jackson definitely does, if his body going stiff is any indication.

Mark watches as Jackson’s hackles rise slowly, steadily. Red blotches start to appear on the skin right underneath his ears, the way they always do when he’s angry. “Don’t talk to him like that. He’s your hyung.”

“I can do whatever I want.”

Yugyeom steps forward after Bambam’s retort. Mark measures his body language and concludes that he’s subconsciously putting himself between his best friend and his hyung, in case Jackson loses it and launches himself at Bambam. 

The tall man turns to Bambam, “Bam,” he says gently. Soothingly. 

Weird. Yugyeom only ever uses that tone when Bambam’s hurting, and Bambam’s _not_ hurting. He’s angry. Angry at Mark.

Isn’t he?

“Shut up, Gyeomie.”

“Apologise.” 

It’s no longer Yugyeom speaking, Mark realises a second too late. Jackson says it calmly, but the slight tremble in his voice and the repeated clenching and unclenching of his fists make it known to Mark that he’s really anything but calm. It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

Bambam doesn’t bother replying to him, he simply turns around and walks out of the apartment. Jackson is about to go after him, in fact, he manages to make a few angry strides toward the door before Namjoon’s hand is on his chest, holding him back with just the slightest touch. Jackson lets himself be held back and Mark forces himself to look away.

“I’ll bring him around.” 

Yugyeom goes out the door and it closes softly behind him.

Jinyoung stares wildly at Mark like he wasn’t expecting that outburst. Mark doesn’t know what to do, because to be honest, _that_ didn’t even come up in the worst scenario he had in mind. He wraps his arms around himself, feeling guilty that everyone who came to have fun and celebrate Jaebum’s birthday had to witness _that_ on account of him. Jackson’s chest is heaving, Namjoon’s palm still pressed flat against it. Youngjae literally has tears threatening to spill from his eyes; he’s not used to his friends fighting. Jinyoung’s relentless, though, because one look at Jaebum and a silent communication later, he’s out through the door too.

Mark follows him after a beat.

What else is he supposed to do? Stand around in a room with Jackson and Namjoon?

His stomach churns just from the thought. He catches up to his friends in front of the elevator, but Jinyoung had a good head start and Mark feels scared all of the sudden, so he presses his back against the wall right around the corner from them and listens to Jinyoung going off.

He peers at them from where he’s standing, careful so that they won’t notice him.

“What the hell was that?” Jinyoung demands, surprising Yugyeom who was tugging at Bambam’s arm persistently. Bambam turns to face him, a disinterested look on his face. He’s texting rather rapidly on his phone, most likely ordering an Uber. 

“I didn’t know he’d be here.”

Jinyoung scoffs derisively. “So you spent months worrying about him and when he shows up you… what? Spat on his face?”

“I didn’t spit on his face! If anything, _he_ spat on _mine_.”

“Mark-hyung’s been trying to move past this like an adult because he is one. What’s your excuse for acting like a child?”

“Fuck that. He gets to move on and Jackson doesn’t? I don’t! I haven’t!” It surprises him more than anything that Bambam is cursing in front of his elder for the first time since Mark has known him, which is now close to six years. Mark doesn’t miss the way his voice cracks at the last two words, and it pains him so much that he has to shut his eyes. He doesn’t want to witness the kind of expression Bambam is wearing on his face. 

Bambam marches on, “I thought we were friends, _best_ friends, but he didn’t even bother to talk to me before he shatters Jackson’s heart into pieces. Now he shows up and goes all ‘Bammie’? Miss me with that shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark steps out from his hiding spot.

Bambam groans. “Oh, _go away_.” 

“Bambam, I’m sorry,” he takes a tentative step forward, “I really am. I miss you, please, can we talk? You never have to again after this, if you don’t want to.”

He doesn’t sound like himself, a little too desperate and about three pitches higher than his normal tone, but Mark doesn’t care. He’s probably lost Jackson forever, which only means he has to fight harder for his other best friend.

Yugyeom’s eyes lock with Mark’s and then he’s leaning close to whisper something in Bambam’s ear. Whatever Yugyeom said appears to have made Bambam’s expression 10% softer. Mark doesn’t know what it is and 10% isn’t exactly a great percentage, but he smiles as gratefully as he can manage at Yugyeom. He gets an encouraging thumbs up in return. 

Bambam shoves his hands into his coat pocket and glowers at Jinyoung before walking past him and towards Mark. He picks up speed as he goes and Mark gets scared for a split second, because Bambam might be slim and tall but he’s packing muscles and if Mark gets punched he will definitely go down and embarrass himself, so he closes his eyes instinctively.

The right hook never came, instead Bambam wraps his arms around Mark’s neck and pulls him forward, legs strong underneath him to support Mark’s weight as he slumps against the pink-haired boy, fighting a sob that’s forcing its way out of him. 

“Miss you, too,” Bambam mumbles against Mark’s shoulder. 

* * *

They went up to the roof of the building, which is designed as a makeshift garden slash lounge. The weather is perfect and Mark can see the stars above him. It’s not too hot nor is it too cold, the soft breeze of night wind only plays with Bambam’s hair the slightest bit. It’s getting long, Mark thinks, but he stops himself from commenting because getting a haircut was something Bambam always did together with Jackson and Jackson hasn’t been in Korea for awhile. Knowing Bambam, he must think getting a haircut alone is a form of betrayal to his favourite hyung. 

“Are you… angry at me?”

Bambam blinks at him lazily as he sits down at one of the picnic benches, his back pressed against the table. “Yes. Of course. What a stupid question, hyung.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Cuss me out? Something.”

“I was too upset at the beginning, so I ignored you. You were always quiet to begin with, but I figured you would come to me when you’re ready, begging for me to help you get Jackson back because you realised you’ve made a cosmical mistake that would put dinosaurs that thought the asteroid coming at them was pretty to shame.” 

A soft laugh escapes Mark and Bambam gazes at him with a fond expression on his face, like he can’t remember the last time Mark laughs around him. Mark hates to admit it, but _he_ can’t remember the last time he laughs so freely, period. It’s a good feeling.

He lifts his head up to stare at the sky before continuing, “But you never did. Your texts were always about something else… like you wanted to pretend nothing happened. And every day it hurts more. I— I love you, hyung. You haven’t been Jackson-hyung’s plus-one to me for at least five years, you know? And I love him, too. You guys were my favourite people, right after Yugyeom.”

“I guess… I thought you would come to me when you needed help, because you were the happiest you have ever been and then suddenly you guys weren’t even together and Jackson went back home to heal and I lost two best friends in one go and it sucked. It sucked because I knew you were going through a rough time but you didn’t want me around to help you, or you didn’t trust me, or whatever other reason you have to not tell me. They all suck equally.”

He shudders as he finishes his explanation and Mark wants to swoop in and hug him but he doesn’t know if Bambam’s okay with that despite the fact that he was the one who hugged Mark first downstairs. 

So he settles with using his words. “Bam, you know it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

His voice is not sharp anymore. It’s not laced with an intention to hurt. Bambam is asking him a question by asking him a question, no longer finding the need to lash out while doing so. Mark revels in the small victory.

“I didn’t want you to have to choose,” Mark admits.

“Choose what?”

“Between me and Jackson. You were his friend first, you’ve always been closer to him and so I thought—“

Bambam cuts him off with an incredulous look on his face, like he can’t believe Mark just said what he did. “It was better to suffer alone? Jinyoung said you didn’t even tell him.”

 

* * *

_Mark walked out of the bedroom to find Jackson fighting silently with the washing machine, the door to their laundry room opened just enough to expose his figure. “Hey, what are you doing?” he asked curiously, leaning against the wooden frame of the door with his arms crossed._

_Jackson threw him a quick sidelong glance before returning to the task at hand. “Ah, you scared me. Laundry.”_

_“Laundry? At 8 o’clock in the morning on a Saturday? Are you possessed?”_

_Mark was about to move in and give Jackson a back hug, because he was cold and Jackson was always warm and he wanted to share some body heat, but then Jackson gave a response to his series of teasing._

_“No, I guess I just have to learn to take care of myself, right? Besides, you kept nagging at me to do my own laundry so I don’t see why you’re protesting now.”_

_Mark let his hands, which were halfway to be linked around Jackson’s waist, drop back to his sides lifelessly._

_Jackson didn’t turn to look at him as he delivered his answer, which was probably for the best because Mark also didn’t brace himself for such a harsh reply. The confusion and hurt on his face must have been evident. Mark was merely joking— and yes, it was Saturday morning, but even Jackson’s never that grumpy. Not with him. Never._

* * *

 

Mark doesn’t answer him immediately. He’s not sure he knows the answer to Bambam’s question. 

He chose not to tell Jinyoung because he didn’t think he would understand. He wouldn’t understand why Mark decided to let go instead of fighting, because Jinyoung is a fighter. Always has and always will be. He wouldn’t have ended up with Jaebum otherwise.

Mark _isn’t_ Jinyoung. Mark wanted to rip off the band-aid as soon as possible because he knew Jackson would try to find ways to fall in love with him again, but there’s no guarantee that he’d succeed. He might only end up torturing himself, which would torture Mark even more, because he knew Jackson would be too stubborn to just leave.

Jackson is a fighter, too.

Just because they had been together for a long time, it didn’t mean they have to stay together when one of them no longer felt the same.

“He doesn’t talk about it, either,” Bambam recaps, “He told us to respect your decision and move on.”

Unsure how to reply, Mark chooses to silent, instead he focuses on Bambam's figure— his long legs wrapped in black skinny jeans with gold ornaments, his bony wrists and slender fingers decorated with only one bracelet but a number of rings. 

Mark fishes his phone out and opens the camera application to take a snap of Bambam’s side portrait. His cheekbone, the one visible to Mark, is illuminated by the moonlight and the bronzer he’s wearing tonight accentuates his features in all the right ways. Bambam lets him do what he wants, even when he knows Mark’s trying do other things to avoid participating in the conversation _he_ had asked _Bambam_ to have with him.

Six months should have been long enough to recover from a relationship, but they were living together and Mark thought Jackson was _it_ and he truly feels like the heartache won’t subside for at least another six years.

He exhales the breath he doesn’t realise he’s been holding and starts to open his mouth. In his mind, he prepares the words he’s going to use to tell Bambam that they should do as Jackson requested and just be good to each other, or else they will go to hell for making Youngjae shed a tear if he’s not full-on bawling in Jaebum’s apartment already.

He doesn’t get a chance to do that when Bambam starts talking again.

“Hyung, I just want to know— and I’m aware that it’s none of my business, but why did you say no?”

There’s something about Mark, and trying to speak his mind, and getting cut off. And people wonder why he’s quiet all the time.

 

* * *

_Mark realised he must have looked like absolute shit when Jaebum listened to his story in its entirety without piping unnecessary comments every two seconds. He observed Mark intently, occasionally sipping on his almond flat white. It was Sunday morning and Mark had waited a whole 24-hours before he freaked out about the event from the morning before._

_He picked up his phone and called Jinyoung’s number only to hear Jaebum’s voice on the other end of the line, telling him off for bothering his lover so early in the morning._ Jinyoung-ah is worn out _, Jaebum told him immediately as soon as he picked up the call. Mark would have laughed at the implication of his words if he hadn’t woken up to an empty bed and Jackson sleeping on the couch. He didn’t fell asleep there on accident, either, seeing as he managed to bring his pillow from their room with him._

I need Jinyoung _, Mark begged._ I’m not going to wake him up _, Jaebum decided. Mark wanted to curse him out— how could he deprive Mark of the one thing he needed just because he had a good long fuck the night before? He didn’t get a chance to, because Jaebum asked him if he knew a good coffee place around and when Mark answered him out of confusion, he told him he’d be there in twenty._

_“Yah, you’re overthinking.” Jaebum settled his cup on the table and stared directly at Mark to show his seriousness. “He’s probably just worn out or something.”_

_“No, I’m not, Jaebum. Jackson has been on edge before but it’s never like this, he never ever takes it out on me. Maybe— maybe…”_

_Jaebum lifted his index finger in warning. “Don’t finish that sentence.”_

_“He’s no longer happy with our relationship?”_

_Jaebum hit him as soon as Mark finished speaking. He flicked him right at the middle of his forehead with incredible speed and it stung like hell._

_“Ow!” Mark protested, glaring at Jaebum, “Are you kidding me?”_

_He missed Jinyoung. Jinyoung would have never hit his hyung._

_“You stop that right now,” Jaebum continued, using what he thought was his best authoritarian voice. “If I were the one saying this to you, you would’ve trampled all over me yelling how blind I am because Jinyoung is clearly head over heels for me and that I’m head over heels for him, so I should quit acting stupid.”_

_“This was about me, not you,” Mark grumbled, still rubbing at the sensitive spot that had just been attacked by Jaebum’s merciless finger._

_“Yes, what I’m saying is: the same logic applies to you too. Jackson loves you.”_

_He wanted to believe him, he wanted to believe him so badly. Besides Mark—and to a large extent, Bambam—Jaebum might be the one person who knew Jackson best. They were college roommates and friends long before. Even Jackson’s continuous whining about having to treat Jaebum as a hyung was lost when he automatically sought out the other man whenever he had a problem. When Mark pointed this fact out, Jackson would always argue that the alcohol Jaebum kept shoving at him during their college days finally altered his brain chemicals permanently._

_Mark swirled his chamomile tea absentmindedly as he thought of Jackson._

* * *

 

Talking to Bambam is starting to give him a headache. He’s talking in riddles, now, and Mark wonders how much of that comes from having weekly coffee dates with Jinyoung.

“What do you mean, say no?”

Mark _never_ says no to Jackson. He’s been aware of this fact since the first year of college, when he finally gathered the courage to come up to Jackson and ask _why_ he’s been staring at him non-stop through their entire Art History class, if there was anything Mark could help him with. Jackson, who never once failed to exude charisma and swagger before that moment, actually blushed and stuttered through his reply. Mark didn’t know then why he had agreed to a date when Jackson didn’t even manage to ask him properly, but he knew it was worth it.

Jackson showed up an hour early to pick him up, overexcited and jittery, holding a single stalk of sunflower bigger than his face to give to Mark.

Mark didn’t know then why he went through with the date, and he was as surprised as Jackson was when he found himself agreeing to a second one. 

But it became obvious to him much later: there’s just something about Jackson that makes him irresistible to Mark.

It is because of this reason that even when it hurt like hell to let him go, Mark had put Jackson’s happiness above his own. He had said the words he knew Jackson had been wanting to say so that he wouldn’t have to. So that he didn’t have to be the bad guy who ended their relationship.

“Exactly what I said. Why did you say no? Didn’t you want to marry him?”

His phone slips out of his grip and hits the ground at the younger man’s question. Bambam yelps and bent down to retrieve it, exclaiming loudly that _it’s not cracked! Oh my God, Mark-hyung it’s a miracle! Oh hey, I look like a million won in this picture._ but all Mark can hear echoing in his thoughts is: _Didn’t you want to marry him?_

Mark did.

Of course Mark did.

How could he not?

 

* * *

_Mark waited in the dark for what felt like hours, abusing the skin underneath his fingernails in agitation. He knew it was almost midnight and that was when Jackson would come home, a habit his boyfriend had developed over the last two weeks. He heard Jackson’s keys jingling softly before the lock is being turned and the door opened slowly._  

 _His boyfriend noticed him sitting on the couch, the TV still turned on though the volume was turned down low. Jackson didn’t say hi to him, didn’t ask him how his day was, didn’t kiss him as a greeting. He didn’t even make his way to Mark, choosing instead to lean against the door in anticipation of the fight they both knew was going to come._  

_Mark clasped his hands together and began._

_“You’ve been staying out late this past week.” It sounded way more accusatory than he had initially intended, but he wasn’t thinking clearly._

_Jackson tugged his tie loose. “Sorry. I have lots of work to catch up on.” Not even an,_ What are you doing up, babe? _or_ You shouldn’t have waited for me, Markie.

_“Liar.” Now that was a full-on accusation._

_“Excuse me?”_

_“You look down to your left when you lie. And you just did that.”_

_It wasn’t a wild guess. Mark knew all of Jackson’s bluffs, just as Jackson knew all of his._

_“Why are you doing this?” Jackson straightened his back and tossed his bag carelessly on their kitchen counter. Mark would have flinched at how angry he was if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt as enraged as Jackson looked. “Lately you’ve been irritable, picking fights all the time.”_

_“Me? I’m picking fights?”_

_He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tick Mark was too well-acquainted with not to notice. He usually stopped Jackson from doing it by intertwining their fingers together andthen Jackson would smile at him, not the wide one he showed to everyone all the time, but the subtle, slight upturn of the corners of his mouth. That was more than enough for Mark._

_Jackson was always more than enough for Mark._

_“It’s what you’re doing right now, isn’t it?”_

_Why wasn't Mark enough for Jackson?_

_“You’re hiding something from me and I want to know what it is.”_

Please, please, please. Please just come out and say it, even if it hurts.

_Mark prepared himself for Jackson to admit that he no longer loved him and that he had been trying to find ways to rekindle their relationship but had been coming up empty. Mark prepared himself for Jackson to end everything because of that exact reason. Mark prepared himself to get his heart broken._

_Instead, Jackson looked like he was the one with the broken heart when he spoke so quietly, “Don’t you trust me?”_

_“Don’t_ you _trust_ me _?” Mark echoed his question back at him._

_Instant reply. No hesitation. “Of course I do.”_

_“Then tell me.”_ I can take it _._

_“Mark… I—” Jackson paused, “can’t.”_

_There was a smile on his face, but it was sad. Mark never wanted this for him, never wanted Jackson to look this sad, especially not while he’s looking at Mark. Maybe it was that look that finally made up his mind._

_“Okay, then.”_

_Jackson lifted his head a little, disbelief in his eyes. He must’ve not thought that Mark would give in so easily. “Okay?” he asked carefully._

_He thought correctly._

_Mark took a deep breath and jumped into the chasm._

_“Let’s break up.”_  

* * *

 

“What are you talking about?!” Mark demands, his hand gripping Bambam’s shoulder tightly.

“Hey, don’t attack me!” Bambam wriggles away from him, touching his shoulder gingerly while shooting daggers at Mark.

Mark’s heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage, so close to bursting out altogether. He better have not misheard what Bambam said to him.

Why would he think that Mark rejected Jackson’s proposal when Mark wasn’t even aware there was a possibility of that happening? It would explain so much, so _so_ much about how Bambam reacted afterward, how _Jackson_ reacted afterward. But… if he was struggling to love Mark at the very end, why would he ask Mark to marry him?

Was that why Jackson couldn’t say it back then? Because he thought that maybe locking down on the promise of forever would save their crumbling relationship, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words?

“Bammie, you better explain.”

“I’m just asking, if he proposed to you and you’re not ready for that, you could have said ‘sorry, not right now’ instead of ‘sorry, not ever’?”

Mark processes his words.

Then he processes some more.

Then he asks for confirmation, because there’s a small sliver of hope at the back of his mind and he wants it to be true but he also doesn’t want it to be true because it might not come to a realisation and that would hurt like a bitch— “He told you that he proposed and I rejected him?”

Bambam tilts his head slightly to the right in confusion. “Well, he didn’t exactly say that…”he trails off. “Are you telling me that’s not what happened?”

“No!” 

“ _What_ ,” Bambam hisses. “All this time I thought!” 

* * *

“Jinyoung, where’s Jackson?”

Jinyoung quickly assesses the state that Mark’s in from his place on Jaebum’s lap and decides not to ask any questions for the time being. Mark mentally makes a note to thank him tomorrow morning, whatever the outcome of his talk with Jackson may be. Jinyoung simply lifts his index finger to point in the direction of the guest room, the door of which is slightly ajar. 

Mark bursts into the room only to find Namjoon with his arm slung over Jackson’s shoulder and there’s an ugly pit of envy boiling in his stomach. The two of them had been laughing at something Namjoon said when they noticed him standing in the doorway.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know,” he says quickly, ready to bolt.

Namjoon stands up from the bed and lifts a placating hand toward Mark.

“That’s alright. I’m leaving anyway, gotta talk to Yugyeom.”

Mark curses the purple-haired man and his ridiculously attractive face in his mind. 

Jackson stares at him expectantly and when Mark remains unmoving by the door, he pats the empty space to his right, signaling for Mark to come sit next to him. Mark walks over and sits down on his left instead, not wanting to take Namjoon’s recently vacated spot.

They stay like that for awhile, neither one of them saying anything to break the silence. It can easily be an excruciating situation, but somehow it’s not awkward at all. The one thing Mark absolutely loves about Jackson is his ability to make Mark feel comfortable even when he’s not supposed to, even in silence, even when the full weight of their break up comes crushing down on him. There’s no other place Mark would rather be in the world than in this small room.

Even if the room screams Jaebum from every corner, which can only mean one thing: Jaebum’s the one getting exiled from the main bedroom whenever he and Jinyoung fights. 

Mark almost loses himself in his thoughts on his friends’ relationship when Jackson finally talks.

“Sorry about Bambam.”

“’S not your fault,” Mark shakes his head in disagreement. “He’s a grown man, as much as I hate to admit that out loud. Anyway, we managed to resolve it.”

He glances at Mark, looking a little too hopeful and entirely too guilty. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. That’s great, Markie.” The nickname slips out even after their time apart, surprising both Mark _and_ Jackson. “I— sorry.”

Yesterday, Mark would have given anything he has to hear Jackson call him that one more time. He fixes his eyes on the man in front of him, the gift that keeps on giving. Mark watches Jackson’s breaths slowly even out and decides to swallow his own fear whole.

“Jackson, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Didyouwanttomarryme?” Mark blurts it out before he can lose his nerve. 

At first, the lack of reaction on Jackson’s part makes him think that maybe he had spoken too fast for Jackson to catch his words. His eyes peer into Mark’s for a good thirty seconds before he bites his lips, still not giving Mark an answer.

Jackson leans back on the bed until his upper body is completely aligned with the mattress and slaps a hand over his tired face. “I’m going to kill Bambam.”

Mark blinks. That’s not exactly a no. “You have to line up behind Jinyoung.”

“Seriously, he didn’t have to tell you that.”

So it’s not a no?

“He didn’t think he was letting me in on a secret. He thought I already knew, and that I said no, and that’s why…” Mark gestures, not wanting to say the words out loud. It’s dumb, he realises, Jackson is covering his face and won’t be able to see him moving his hands anyway.

Jackson releases his hand from his face and clasps them together on his stomach, staring hard at the ceiling. 

“Oh. Well, I guess I didn’t quite explain things clearly to him, or anyone, for that matter. It kinda sucked, just thinking about it. I just made sure they left you alone, and that’s that.”

Mark traces his features with his eyes and holds the urge to do the same with his fingers— even he knows that would be too much. He probably shouldn’t have done the former, either, because he can feel the liquid courage Jinyoung talked about finally kicking in and setting his system into overdrive. 

“I would have said yes, for the record.”

Jackson sits back up. “What are you saying?”

“I wanted that, too. I mean, I didn’t have a date set or even a ring, or anything, but I always thought we could go to America and have a wedding. A big ass one, because you’re extra. I know it’s too late, but I just thought I’d let you know we were on the same page.”

Maybe this way, they both get the closure they deserve and they can work on being friends. Whatever his status may be, Jackson is an important person in Mark’s life and he hates the thought of losing him just because they aren’t romantically involved. It was a good run. They had a good run and they were happy, they were in love. Jackson was beginning to lose that near the end, though Mark doesn’t blame him. Mark would never blame him.

It’s just life.

Sometimes it lasts, other times it doesn’t. 

Mark feels like he can let go, maybe even learn to love again in the future. Not in the _near_ future, but surely in the future. He understands that their reasons for wanting marriage might differ, but even with his feelings diminishing Jackson still wanted to save the two of them and Mark could never ask for something greater than that. 

“Too late?” Jackson presses, his voice small. 

“Well, you’re with Namj—” the other man looks alarmed, prompting Mark to stop talking. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m _not_ with Namjoon, ugh?” He makes an appalled face. “That’s like dating my brother or whatever. I just brought him along because his kid brother, Jungkook, is going out with Yugyeom and they apparently had a misunderstanding. Joon-ah is here to set things straight, that’s all.”

_Wait…_

“Oh.”

Jackson doesn’t let him rest before he hits Mark with a confession, “And I… had a ring.” 

Mark gasps softly. Jackson takes Mark’s right hand in his own, tracing Mark’s ring finger gently. The gesture sends a shiver down Mark’s spine.

“Went to get it with Bambam. It was so funny, he pretended to be my actual fiancé-to-be and got us a huge discount because he made up a story about how we met and got separated for years and found our way back to each other. The teller cried. I was going to ask Jinyoung, I thought he’d know more about what you might like, but if I let him in on it, that meant letting Jaebum in on it as well and by extension, Youngjae. No one can keep a fucking secret in our group, most of all me.”

He opens his mouth and closes it again, does it repeatedly because that’s the only reaction he can give while listening to Jackson’s explanation. Mark feels torn between using his other hand to hold on to Jackson or pull out his phone and record their conversation because he needs proof that he’s not hallucinating. The only drink he’s had all night is two gulps of the beer Jinyoung handed to him and that was over an hour ago, so it can’t be the alcohol. 

He decides that maybe it’s too weird to record a heartfelt confession, so he opts for the first choice. Mark places his left hand on top of Jackson’s closed ones.

It seems to give Jackson the push he needs to continue his story.

“I started doing my own laundry because I was so afraid you’d stumble upon the ring in my sock drawer. I don’t even know why I hid it there, what a cliché,” he chuckles to himself. “I stayed back at the office as late as I could because every time I saw your face I wanted to say the words, I wanted you to be mine and I wanted to tie you down—as selfish as it sounds—because I didn’t want to ever let you go. Told myself, have to wait, everything has to be perfect. Made a reservation at that dim sum place where you told me you love me for the first time, over prawn dumplings. I was thinking of asking them to wrap the ring in one of the dumplings but then you might choke and…” 

Jackson clears his throat, realising that he’s getting more emotional than he intended to be. He caught himself and Mark wishes he never did.

“Anyways. I never got to do that.”

Jackson’s a fighter, Mark stands by these words. He might have sniffled and lifts his hand to wipe a single tear from the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t start crying.

Mark _isn’t_ Jackson.

He takes his hands back from Jackson and uses them to bury his face, crouching forward. It doesn’t even take half a minute for his tears to start spilling out.

“Mark, it’s okay,” Jackson consoles him when Mark sobs, “I’m not angry or anything. If you fell out of love with me, it’s not your fault. It’s neither of our faults. It just… happens.”

Jackson doesn’t touch him, maybe he thinks he isn’t allowed to. His voice, though, it’s smooth and deep and it tethers Mark to the edge of his sanity.

“You stupid, gorgeous man,” he chokes out through his tears. He lifts his face but finds himself unable to make out Jackson’s face through all the liquid coming out uncontrollably from his eyes. Not that it matters; he could lose his sight right this second and Jackson would still be gorgeous.

“Wait,” Jackson finally reaches out to him, tentatively. Mark doesn’t flinch, he leans forward bravely, aching for Jackson’s touch. “I’m not entirely sure whether that was an insult or a compliment.”

Jackson’s warm fingers brush against his wet cheeks.

It’s simple, yet enough to drive Mark crazy. “I just said I wanted to marry you, Jackson, and you’re saying it’s okay if I fell out of love? Have you been listening to anything I said?”

“Huh— you,” Jackson retracts his hand like the heat coming from Mark’s skin suddenly becomes too much for him to handle. Mark lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. “Hm. Wait, what?” 

He gives Jackson time to process their conversation on his own, choosing to stay quiet while the gears turned in Jackson’s head. 

“But you broke up with me!” he exclaims after a moment.

“That was a comical mistake that put the dinosaurs that thought the asteroid coming at them was pretty to shame,” Mark admits sheepishly.

Jackson tilts his head to the left. “Bam?”

Mark smiles at the instant recognition. He tries to speak again, ignoring the consistent hiccups that emerge from his throat every three words he manages to get out.

“I misread the signs. I interpreted you avoiding me because you loved me too much as you loved me too little. The things that I had made up in my mind, it was ugly. Really ugly. I was scared shitless, I thought it was better to end it sooner, try to keep as little bad memories between us as I possibly could.”

It sounds incredibly stupid, now that he sees the big picture. Now that he puts everything out in the open. Ah, Jinyoung is going to have a field day harassing him for this. He doesn’t even know how he could come to such a big conclusion before talking to Jackson. His insecurities got the best of him and they sucked big time.

“Witnessing you gradually love me less, that was a nightmare I wanted to save myself from. And when you didn’t even try to fight me on the break-up… the nightmare came true anyway.”

“Never,” Jackson declares with the amount of confidence Mark always wished he had half of.

“What?”

“I’d never love you any less.” 

A weight of about two tonnes is lifted from Mark’s heart.

“Not fighting your decision… that was because to me, you’re a person who always thinks everything through. You come up with all these scenarios and you choose the best one. And if you thought the best thing for us was to break up, well, I trusted you. I still do, trust you.”

Mark feels like he’s soaring.

“Oh God, I’m an idiot,” Mark groans. “Can— can we just…?”

He doesn’t dare finish the sentence, because if the answer to his question is a yes, Jackson won’t hesitate to finish it for him. And if it isn’t… well, he supposes it’s good that he doesn’t ask properly. Jackson levels his gaze at Mark and gives the incomplete inquiry a thought. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. Mark reminds himself that he isn’t allowed to hold Jackson’s hand in order to soothe his nerves just yet.

For what it’s worth, Jackson offers him an earnest answer. “I don’t think so.”

Mark’s heart falls again.

“I don’t think we can go back to the way we were before.”

He nods in understanding, of course, it would be too much to ask of a person. Time has passed since then. Jackson is probably so close to moving on and opening a new chapter of his life. Mark just had to be the selfish asshole who wants to drag him back into the past because he himself couldn’t stop living in it. He doesn’t beat himself too much about it, though, he knows he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t ask.

Jackson hooks his index finger underneath Mark’s chin and guides Mark to look at him.

Mark finds that there’s a smile on his face.

That old, private smile.

The slight upturn of the corners of his mouth is unmistakable.

Mark lets himself hope and Jackson doesn’t disappoint. “But, I want to give us another chance. I still want a future with you.”

He cups Jackson’s face in his hands and closes his eyes in quiet gratification. The younger man closes the distance between the two of them, planting his soft lips on Mark’s own with just the slightest bit of pressure. 

Suddenly, Mark feels alive again.

* * *

They don’t go further than touching and kissing, though Mark doesn’t have any protest about that fact. He thinks they have all the time in the world and he’s going to continue thinking this way unless Jackson _very explicitly_ tells him he feels otherwise.

Jackson had gotten up in between kisses to lock the door, deciding that they can always deal with their friends in the morning. Now they’re laying down on the bed together, listening to each other’s breathing. Mark never realised how much he’s missed sleeping with another person. More specifically, he never realised how much he’s missed sleeping next to Jackson.

_Solid warmth,_ Mark thinks.

He has his head on Jackson’s chest, one arm thrown around Jackson’s middle. Their legs are tangled together and Jackson’s hand is running up and down his back. If Mark closes his eyes and lets sleep takes him, he might have the best he’s had in a long time, but he doesn’t want to. Not yet. He wants to enjoy this, wants to bask in the afterglow of having his feelings straightened out.

He listens to Jackson’s heartbeat, strong and steady.

“By the way, your dad still calls me from time to time.”

Mark opens his eyes, dizzy from all the surprises being thrown at him today.

“What did you just say?”

“Papa Tuan calls me to check up on me, asks me if I’m eating properly and whether I’m overworking myself like an idiot to avoid thinking of his son. On the good days, he’d remind me that you just need some time to figure things out.”

Mark’s almost too afraid to ask, then Jackson starts playing with his hair. He can’t explain it,but that’s how he knows everything will be alright even if he asks, so he does. “And on the bad days?”

“He’d tell me that it’s good I didn’t tell your mother I was going to propose. Said it would have broken her heart.”

He winces inwardly. His mother didn’t take the news of him breaking up with Jackson very well, more because she was worried about Mark’s wellbeing than the fact that she had adopted Jackson into their family, but Mark sees where his father is coming from. The stress would have been greater if she had known the additional detail.

Mark makes another mental note to call her in the morning, and his dad, too, to thank him for taking care of Jackson while Mark wasn’t around and also to release his anger at him for keeping such a big secret from Mark.

“I can’t believe this… my dad knows! He calls me practically three times a week and he just kept it from me?!”

“Of course your dad knows,” Jackson scoffs. “What kind of man do you think I am? I had to ask his permission for your hand.”

_Happy. Elated. Overjoyed. Euphoric._ All these words jump out at him as he hears Jackson says those words.

Mark feels giddy. He feels his cheeks heating up— suddenly thankful that they’re not facing each other, because he’s sure even in the dimly lighted room, Jackson would be able to see how flustered he is.

* * *

A good two hours later, they’re still talking. Catching up on stories from their time apart. Letting each other on things they didn’t know, snippets from behind the scenes.

Mark didn’t know that Jaebum asked Jackson for his address in Hongkong only to send him an invitation to his birthday party with the words ‘come home, you fucking coward’ written in perfect Cantonese.

Jackson had no idea Bambam was ignoring Mark the whole time because he thought Mark had double-stabbed him, turning down his proposal and _then_ breaking up with him. He would’ve slapped some sense into him long ago if he had known. Mark knows this.

Mark wasn’t aware that Jinyoung came to Jackson the day he was bound to leave Seoul and went down on his knees— _no, not like that,_ Jackson assured him—to beg him to stay on Mark’s behalf. Jinyoung cried when Jackson told him he couldn’t do that and he believes that’s mainly what prompted Jaebum passive-aggressive invite. 

Jackson didn’t know Youngjae and Yugyeom both give Mark updates whenever they finish talking to him, just to let Mark know that Jackson’s alive and well. They gave Mark enough strength to go on.

Jackson never asked and no one ever bothered to tell him—their friends avoided touching that topic with a 10 feet pole—but Mark kept their apartment and still sleeps on his side of the bed, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night frantically looking for Jackson.

Mark found out that Jackson’s mom had to wake him up some nights because he was crying in his sleep and calling out Mark’s name.

They let each other in on their secrets and Mark falls in love again just like that. He’s reminded of the sunflower Jackson gave him. He didn’t bring roses, or tulips, or lilacs, he brought Mark a damn sunflower and told him that his smile is as radiant as the sun, hence the flower. It was flawed logic, to be honest, but Mark loved it.

“Do you…” _still love me?_ Mark wants to finish, but it sounds unfair. Jackson just told him he’d never love him any less, and what Mark really itches to know is whether he’s still in love with Mark. _In a particular way_.

“I still have the ring,” Jackson answers, reading his mind.

Mark buries his face into the crook of Jackson’s neck in response. He feels the soft kiss Jackson drops on the top of his head, the way he used to do even before they were officially boyfriends and Mark can’t help but smile against Jackson’s warm skin. 

* * *

The next morning, Mark wakes up to Yugyeom entering the apartment in last night’s clothes.

“Morning, Gyeomie.” He yawns a little.

“I guess everybody stayed, huh?” Yugyeom glances at Bambam’s sprawled figure on the couch and Youngjae tucked safely in the corner, a blanket thrown over his body. Courtesy to Jinyoung— he never misses the chance to mother everyone else. Mark takes a good look at Bambam and cringes a little. Judging from his position, he’s probably going to wake up with a sore back and a very sore neck. 

“You just got back?”

“I left my bag here,” he points to the brown leather pouch perched atop the fridge on the other side of the room, not taking his eyes off Mark. “Ah, Bambam is gonna hate me,” he giggles happily after taking in Mark’s appearance from head to toe.

“Hm?” Mark rubs at his eyes. He’s too sleepy to feel insecure under Yugyeom’s scrutinising gaze, but this is Yugyeom he’s talking about. He was the person who came knocking at Mark’s door two days after the break up only to cry alongside Mark, cradling him against the door because they never made it more than two steps into the apartment. Mark doesn’t have much to worry about, really. 

“Why is that?”

“Because I get to find out that you and Jackson-hyung made up before he does,” he answers lightly.

He’s not wrong and if Mark’s brain is operating at optimum conditions he could have guessed that Yugyeom saw Jackson’s shoes at the door and Mark coming out of the guest bedroom, simply putting two and two together in a simple mathematics equation. But it’s barely seven and he’s only been awake for a good five minutes, so no one can blame him for not catching on.

“How…?”

“You have a hickey on your neck.”

Mark’s hands fly up to cover either side of his neck, the flush rising to his cheeks in a matter of seconds. He’s suddenly awake, hyper-aware of his surroundings. “I do _not_.”

Yugyeom grins at him, making finger guns. Yep, finger guns. Mark’s not entirely sure whether he’s 3 or 23 as his physical appearance indicates it’s one and his personality the other.

“Yeah, you’re right. I was just teasing you.”

“That’s not very nice,” Mark chides him, but he’s smiling.

“Should we steal some of Jaebum-hyung’s coffee?”

Mark nods. Coffee sounds great. “Yes, please.”

Yugyeom turns around and starts walking toward the kitchen area, crossing the living room carefully as to not wake his sleeping friends. Mark follows closely behind him, tiptoeing around the beer cans and half-eaten pizza crusts on the floor. When he lifts his head from his feet back to Yugyeom, he notices something peeking from the collar of Yugyeom’s sweater and a mischievous thought appears in his head. 

He calls him sweetly as he slides into the same chair he took last night, “Yugyeom-ah.”

“Yes?”

“ _You_ have a hickey on your neck,” Mark points out.

He expects Yugyeom to fluster, maybe drop a couple coffee beans on the floor or drop the pot altogether. The latter isn’t preferable, but Mark is willing to pay for the cost of a replacement pot if it means having the upper hand against the maknae for once.

Yugyeom does nothing of the sort. He only gives Mark a detached, “Oh?”

Damn it. Mark really thought he had it this time. He’s about to voice his protest that Yugyeom’s never fun to tease because he doesn’t play along or react the way Mark wants him to, but then the reddening tips of the younger’s ears catch his attention. He _is_ embarrassed, he’s just good at hiding it. 

He racks his brain and really— he should be getting credit for this. It’s hard to remember anything from last night that is unrelated to Jackson. Mark thinks hard and then, “Don’t you think you should introduce Jungkook-ssi to us?”

Yugyeom glances at him, pink tints starting to appear on his cheeks. Yes, Mark got the name correct.

“Wait a little longer and I will.”

He pouts a little just to tease him. “You’re not ashamed of him, are you? I raised you better than that.”

“ _Hyung_ , I’m ashamed of _you guys_.” He looks pointedly at Bambam, who is somehow trying to undress himself in his sleep. Mark doesn’t want to know what he’s dreaming about. “I’m crazy for him. Just don’t wanna scare him away just yet.”

Mark pacifies his excitement to continue his attacks on Yugyeom when he sees the expression on his face as he talks about his boyfriend. _Young love_ , Mark thinks, then reprimands himself for sounding so old even in his own head. The coffee machine dings, so Yugyeom opens the cupboard above the sink and pulls out two mugs. He makes a small noise of disgust when he spots the matching JJP mugs which belonged exclusively to Jaebum and Jinyoung. Mark is willing to bet he’ll be just as disgusting with this Jungkook boy in no time, but he keeps this thought to himself.

“Gyeomie.”

Yugyeom sets one of the mugs in front of Mark. “Yes, Mark-hyung.”

“Thank you,” Mark tells him sincerely.

“I didn’t do anything though?” he takes a sip of his coffee and makes a face, “and this coffee isn’t worth that amount of gratitude.”

“If it weren’t for what you said to Bambam last night, I don’t think he would’ve listened to me.”

Yugyeom nods a little, catching on to Mark’s meaning. “Don’t mention it.”

“What did you say, anyway?”

“I told him the real reason you broke your wrist that one time.”

Ah, so Yugyeom brought the big guns. Mark remembers that night vividly, although he wishes the others don’t have to, especially Bambam. They had gone to a club to celebrate Yugyeom and Bambam’s amazing exam scores, having the time of their lives while minding their own business. It all went south when some asshole decided that his masculinity was threatened by Bambam wearing platform heels and a bomb eyeshadow shade. He had called him names and Bambam is strong, but maybe not that night, because he pushed his way through the rest of the group and went straight for the exit. Mark saw the tears in his eyes as he went past him. 

The guy had told them to run after their girlfriend with a sneer on his face and even Jaebum wasn’t fast enough to beat Mark to it. In his rage, he let his untrained fist flew right at the guy’s jaw, which cracked loudly enough for the club to pause the blaring music. Unfortunately, the bouncers got to them before Mark could throw any more punches. Even Jackson was too surprised to try and stop him. 

Mark didn’t _break_ his wrist—he wasn’t that fragile, thank you very much—he only fractured it a little. And it’s not like he needed his left hand a lot, he could write just fine with his right and as for the rest, Jackson’s had that covered for him. His boyfriend had also scolded Mark’s head off after their impromptu trip to the ER, saying it was hot but Mark should leave the physical fights to him because he’d die if Mark ever gets hurt even more than he already had. 

How did Mark ever think to doubt Jackson’s love for him again?

He never told Bambam the truth because between hot-headed Jaebum and Jackson and the manipulative mastermind Jinyoung, Mark figured Bambam needed one good role model in his life. He just said he’d slipped and lost his balance because he was too drunk and gladly suffered through Bambam’s boisterous laugh as he fell for his lie unsuspectingly.

Mark stares at Yugyeom, who’s taken a seat across from him, his eyes crinkling. 

A silent understanding passes between them.

“Markie?”

Jackson emerges from the bedroom, stretching his body lazily as he walks toward the kitchen. Mark has seen him naked numerous time before, but this morning seeing a strip of Jackson’s stomach when his shirt rode up is enough to make him feel hot. Jackson makes him act like a dumb teenager who can’t control himself. In a good way, of course. 

“Morning, Jackson-hyung. Coffee?”

Jackson presses a kiss to Mark’s temple and sits next to him before nodding at Yugyeom. “Someone’s being a good maknae so early in the morning. What’s gotten into you?”

“His boyfriend,” Mark snickers in attempt to hide his own embarrassment.

Yugyeom stares at him in surprise, and then he’s laughing. Laughing the way he always does when he successfully pranks his hyungs: unrestrained and loud, throwing his entire body into it. It’s apparently loud enough to wake Youngjae who was previously curled up on the bean bag. Youngjae yelps when he accidentally steps on the TV remote while making his way towards his friends, causing Bambam to wake up as he falls off the couch with a noisy thump.

Jaebum throws open the door of his room with a baseball bat in hand, but he’s still wearing the birthday hat and looks extremely hungover that it just paints a rather ridiculous picture. Jinyoung is plastered to his back, saying _‘I told you, it’s just them,’_ before his eyes lands on Mark.

Mark, who is leaning his body against Jackson’s side. 

Jinyoung smiles really wide as he figures out the situation presented in front of him and practically skips all the way toward his best friend. 

Somehow, he misses Bambam’s position of the floor entirely and ends up stumbling over him, Bambam screeching his best velociraptor impression in protest. Jaebum slams the door on his friends, moaning that he’s surely going to get a noise complaint from his neighbour and it’s so early in the morning, though Mark doesn’t miss the small nod he gives to Jackson.

Jinyoung finally makes it to them, hugging Mark with one arm and Jackson with the other. Bambam suddenly forgets that he’s under an immeasurable amount of pain and follows Jinyoung’s lead. Someone starts sobbing not too long after— Mark initially thinks it’s him but of course it’s Youngjae, because he’s the next person to engulf the rest of the gang in his arms. Yugyeom reaches around the table and rests his chin on top of Mark’s head.

Mark has a hard time concentrating and it’s not because he’s being crushed in a group hug so hard that he doesn’t have room to breathe, but because Jackson’s arms are around his waist as he buries his face in Mark’s neck, his laugh reverberating from his own body through to Mark’s and just like that, Mark’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> yep, there it is. 
> 
> i'm currently writing a continuation piece, except it's really a prequel centered on jb/jinyoung's relationship before they even called it that. not sure where i'm going with it yet, though.
> 
> drop a comment to let me know what you guys think & sorry for any grammar inconsistencies, i suck hahaha. alternatively, come scream with me on [tumblr](http://denisvileneuve.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/bloominsummer1).


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